


Start Spreading the News

by sergeant_angel



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Cartinelli - Freeform, F/F, Fake Dating, Kate fangirls a little, M/M, Sharon was a late-in-life baby, angie is dad joke mom i can't unsee it, aunt is a euphemism, aunt is the parental version of gal pal, her two moms will fight you, holiday fic, i would still be writing it but look at the time, now we bring you SEASONAL TRASH!!!!, some swearing!!!!, this is trash and i couldn't stop writing it, you've seen regular trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8534551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sergeant_angel/pseuds/sergeant_angel
Summary: Kate was just planning on spending another Thanksgiving by herself, maybe pining after her supersecret secret agent friend.A lesbian thespian and a bi spy have other ideas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this on tumblr. It was just going to be a cute, fluffy, SHORT holiday thing. it was mostly going to be a way to get Angie Martinelli and Avenue Q in the same paragraph.  
> And then this happened. I have nothing to say for myself.

Kate can hear the muffled argument before there is a sharp rap on her door, _tap-tap-tap_. 

“It’s open!” Kate shouts, somehow managing to both upend the pile of papers she was looking at and catch a wheel of her desk chair in a rogue power cord, and upend herself. “Mother _fucker_ ,” she swears, popping up off the floor just in time to completely regret her word choices and life choices in general when she finds herself under the scrutiny of two little old ladies.

Clients?

Clients who she has potentially scandalized beyond repair. 

“Uh, hi, sorry, my uh, my administrative assistant, she’s, um, she’s off for the week what with the holiday, something about Central Park and nuts, she’s really a very lovely girl but she has this very specific organizational system that I don’t get and....” Kate trails off. “I’m Kate, how can I help you?”

“Kate,” says one of the women with something like relish. “Told ya, English. Pay up.”

The other woman sighs the sigh of eternal suffering before pulling out a twenty and handing it off. “Can I assume that you’re the Bishop of Bishop Investigations?”

The woman has a crisp British accent and an on-point hair game that lesser mortals like Kate can only dream of.

“That’s me,” Kate admits, haltingly. She becomes uncomfortably aware of the day-old pad Thai on her desk and the fact that she’s worn the same clothes for three days as the British one--English?--surveys her. 

“Just get done with a mission?” The British one says with something that might be sympathy. 

“Job, English. This is the private sector, they call ‘em _jobs_.”

“Uh, yeah,” Kate keeps looking from one to the other, head swiveling back and forth. “How--”

“I have an eye for this sort of thing,” English says with a sniff. 

“Right,” Kate shakes her head to clear it, tries to ignore the Fury-esque vibes this little old lady is sending her, the _get some goddamn sleep Bishop--No! Not right now!_ After _you debrief, God in heaven--_ “Uh, how can I help you?”

“You’re the girl our daughter keeps gadding about with,” English informs Kate, while the other woman chortles, muttering, “ _Gadding_ , you can take the girl out of Britain but you can’t take the--”

“Daughter?” Kate echoes, her brain sluggishly trying to put one and one together. 

The accent. The Fury vibes. The nose, holy--

“Oh, my god, you’re Peggy Carter.” 

“Sharon isn’t getting in til later, let us take you out for lunch, sugar,” the...not-Peggy Carter woman says, coming around Kate’s desk and snagging her by the elbow. “I’m Angie, and of course, this is Pegs, and we’re just tickled to finally meet you. I know Sharon said you were doing just the two of you for Thanksgiving, but we haven’t seen her in months and this is a time for family, isn’t it?” 

By the time she’s finished this speech Kate is on the other side of her door, staring at the glass that says _Bishop Investigations, Hero for Hire._

“Don’t forget to lock up, now!” Angie chirps, her smile blinding. Kate finds that she already has her key out, and wonders, _what_. “We’re just so thrilled to finally meet you!”

Kate feels a little like she’s having an out-of-body experience as Angie and _Director Peggy Carter of SHIELD_ drag her out into the brisk New York air.

_What._

* * *

 

They have lunch and _Peggy Carter THE PEGGY CARTER_ softens a bit towards Kate. She’s showered and changed (and come out to find a teapot she didn’t know she had full of tea she _knows_ she doesn’t have), and Kate has wrangled three tickets for _Avenue Q_  when she finally has a moment to text the person she is currently referring to as That Goddamn Carter.

HAWKI: YOUR MOM IS PEGGY CARTER

13: what

HAWKI: don’t give me that she’s standing five feet from me

13: WHAT

HAWKI: yeah your moms are both here

HAWKI: we’re going to see avenue q

HAWKI: is there a reason they think we’re dating or

HAWKI: helloooooooo

HAWKI: Sharon?

* * *

 

They are just exiting the theatre when a blonde blur in a grey wool coat screeches to a stop in front of the three of them.

“Hawkeye,” Sharon pants, doubled over, hands braced on her knees. “You--took--my mothers--to see-- _Avenue Q_?”

“Give us a kiss, then,” Peggy Carter (Kate can’t think of her as just Peggy, it seems disrespectful. And she’s gotten a gentle reprimand for calling her Director Carter, so Peggy Carter it is) tells her daughter. 

Sharon presses an absentminded kiss to her mother’s cheek before getting swept up into a hug by Angie. “C’mere, Pie, how have you been? You look rushed.”

“No, not at all, just didn’t realize you were coming up--”

“And miss out on a chance to meet our girl’s best girl? Not a chance, Pie.”

Kate can see Sharon stiffen, which--

“Ah-huh, hey, my lucky custard cake, can I have a minute? Just a sec,” Kate smiles at the moms, snagging Sharon’s sleeve and dragging her a good ten feet away.

“No, farther,” Sharon moves them another seven feet or so. “Mum has very good hearing. I’d rather they not hear this.”

Kate stares at Sharon for a minute--the way she’s chewing on her lower lip, the flush in her cheeks and a wild look in her eyes. 

“I didn’t think you were supposed to be back until tonight,” is what Kate decides to lead with. 

“I may have,” Sharon avoids eye contact, “told Clint I owed him one and shoved all my paperwork on him, and borrowed a quinjet.”

Kate stares.

“I. Well. I may have gotten a bit panicked. And you took them to Avenue Q! Why!”

“Wow, well, let’s back up to _why do your mothers think we are dating_.”

Sharon gapes at her. And honestly, if Kate wasn’t kind of pissed at Sharon, it would be adorable. As it is, Kate has been flirting with Sharon to no avail for the past year and a half, so it’s kind of tragic. 

“It--it was easier than always fielding questions about who I’m dating? I spend a lot of time with you anyway, and I know stuff  about you from when we worked together at--” Sharon hastily course-corrects when she sees Kate’s glare--”The Place That Shall Not Be Named, and I’m sorry, Kate, I never expected them to actually show up out of the blue!”

“Well, your mom is the Queen Mother of all spies, so I guess that’s not surprising.”

Sharon shifts her weight from foot to foot. “Look, Kate, I’m really sorry to do this to you, but can you--just until after Thanksgiving! That’s all. Act like we _are_ dating?”

 _No_ , Kate thinks, but her mouth is a traitor and says, “Yeah, sure, okay.”

Sharon’s whole damn face lights up, and she slides her fingers between Kate’s, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, Hawkeye, you’re the best!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kate mutters, trying and failing to convince her heart to stop doing a futzing samba, it’s just _pretend_.

Kate’s heart is a tool, and doesn’t listen to her at all.

“but can we revist,” Sharon says as they draw near to The Moms who look more than a little smug, “that you took _my mothers_ to Avenue Q?”

“I loved it,” Angie insists. “We’re not as scandalized as you think, Pie. ‘If You Were Gay’ was my favorite.”

“You are utterly predictable,” Peggy links her arm through her wife’s.

“Don’t pout, my second favorite was ‘What Do You Do With A BA in English.’”

Sharon groans. 

* * *

 

“Of course we’re staying for Thanksgiving, don’t be daft,” is what Peggy Carter informs them all at dinner (Angie is an excellent cook, it’s clear where Sharon gets it from).

“Mum--”

“Don’t you start with me, Sharon. It’s my right and duty as your mother to impose over the holidays.”

“But Kate--”

“We already asked, her sister is with the in-laws and her father--” Angie sees something in Kate’s face before hastening on with “is not worth mentioning, so of course we’re staying and spending it with you!”

“Mom--”

“Sharon, where’s that nice serving dish? We’re going to need it tomorrow--”

“It’s at my place, Mom--”

“You two aren’t living together?” Peggy glares at _both_ of them, wow, Kate feels _amazing_ , Peggy Carter is _glaring at her this is amazing--_ “Well, why the bloody hell not? Aren’t you in love?”

“Uh--”

“Kate, a word?” Sharon doesn’t wait for a yes before she’s dragging Kate out into the hallway. 

“Dude, _what the flip_ ,” Kate hisses. “What. The. What.”

“Okay. So. There’s no way for this to be not-embarrassing, so. Gonna rip the bandaid off--”

“What? No. I’m not a ripper. Run it under warm water, peel up the corner, a little at a time-- _what_ , okay, not with _Clint_ \--”

“I’ve been in love with you for a year,” Sharon blurts out.

Sharon isn’t a blurter. Sharon doesn’t blurt. She measures her words, calm and cool and _oh my holy lord god._

“Which I’m sure is going to ruin our friendship, but it was easier to just act like we were together--you don’t know my moms, they like to meddle and if I’d told them about the pining, meddling would have been imminent, so--”

“Are you telling me I could have been making out with you for _a year_? Oh, my God. Carter, you’re the worst, okay? The absolute worst.”

“Wait. What?”

“I hate you. You and your stupid perfect face and your stupid perfect hair and your stupid perfect laugh and your _stupid obliviousness,_ you--you--”

It’s probably good for everyone that Sharon chooses this moment to cup Kate’s face with her stupid perfect hands, with their stupid perfect callouses and scars to press her stupid perfect lips to Kate’s. 

* * *

 

“I never thought,” Peggy says with an exasperated sigh, “my own bloody daughter would be as dense as Daniel sodding Sousa.”

“Don’t gripe, English, you got a trip to California out of that.”

“Suppose we should invite them over for Thanksgiving as well?”

“Only if Jack promises to call you Marge in front of Kate. I think her head might explode.”

“Not likely, Hawkeyes are notoriously hard of head.”

“Now, be nice, Peg. That’s our future daughter-in-law you’re makin’ fun of.”

“Harumph.”

“Don’t even act like you aren’t pleased as punch.”

“Well--”

They are interrupted by what is probably a lamp being knocked over. Someone swearing, and Sharon saying, “ _You are the worst_ \--”

“I suppose now is a good a time as ever to drop in on Danny and Jack,” Angie gathers up their jackets and scarves. “Shake it, English, they’ve been saying we’re not good matchmakers for years, time to prove ‘em wrong.”

They’re waiting for a cab when Peggy leans down and kisses Angie. “An excellent plan, darling.”

The laugh bubbles out of Angie, contagious. “You’re the one who bullied Nick into all that cellphone nonsense.”

“I didn’t _bully_ ,” Peg has the gall to look affronted. “I _asked_.”

“I’m teasin’, English. Now get in the cab, I’m not getting any younger.”

Peggy doesn’t get in the cab, but she does look at Angie like she always has, softness and something else that still makes Angie feel like she’s downed a hot chocolate all in one go. 

“I love you, Angie.”

“You’re such a sap, English. I love you, too. Now get in the cab.”

Peggy finally does just that. Angie takes a deep breath of the brisk New York air, thinks of her daughter and her wife.

It’s good to be home. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was done with this fic but then Jack Thompson informed me I was wrong.

Sharon is feeling pretty good about herself when they get out of the cab in front of the Sousa-Thompson building. She has not only convinced her mothers that Hawkeye is her girlfriend but convinced _Hawkeye herself_ to be her girlfriend and the holiday isn’t even over yet, which makes her more successful at this trope than all of the Hallmark/holiday movies combined.

It means that Kate’s muttered, “Ugh, _this_ building?” goes unchallenged by Sharon until the elevator deposits them on the eighth floor and Kate’s lips are moving silently, her eyebrows drawing together in a way that makes Sharon—well, not _nervous._ Sharon isn’t about to get _nervous_ over something like Kate clearly knowing this building and perhaps the inhabitants because Sharon’s pretty sure this building can’t contain someone who has a grudge against Hawkeye and would want to hurt her—

Okay, considering that roughly every street in the city houses at least one person who wants to kill a Hawkeye, this is probably a little foolhardy. Sharon slides her hand into Kate’s and squeezes, pulling her close so she can murmur, “What are you doing?”

“Counting,” Kate says through her teeth as their party comes to a stop in front of a door. “Oh, crap.”

Mum knocks once, a firm rap of her knuckles, and the door swings wide.

“Here they are! Best gals in the city!” Dandy kisses her moms and Sharon can feel Kate’s breath exit her in a relieved, “huh,” before Sharon’s being squeezed in to a hug.

“How’s my girl?”

“Good, Dandy, this is—“

“You must be Kate!”

Sharon fights down the blush because she’s a _secret agent,_ dammit, and it’s not embarrassing to introduce your girlfriend you’ve talked to your family about _to_ your family unless you haven’t actually been dating her.

Daniel finally releases Kate, who looks a little dazed.

“Dandy?” she finally asks as the parents wander towards the living room.

“I, uh, when I was a kid, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to call him Daddy or Danny, so I just combined the two. And it stuck.”

“That’s _adorable_ ,” Kate unwinds her scarf. “Tell you what, though, we really dodged a bullet, there’s a guy in this building—really thought it was this apartment—who always thinks I’m peeping on him. Which, I’m not, his balcony is just the best vantage point for the building across the way. He’s always yelling at me to get off his damn lawn. I mean, he did give me coffee last time I was here. And we talked about…uh…” Kate trails off, her eyes dropping to Sharon’s mouth before looking at the floor, a sign if ever there was one that Kate had been talking about _her huge crush on Sharon suck on THAT_. “About people. Not picking up signals,” Sharon hangs their coats in the hall closet before sneaking her arm around Kate’s waist as they meander down the hall. “Apparently his husband didn’t have any clue, but this was back in the day, but we talked about pining—about _him_ pining, I mean.”

Sharon has a flash of guilt because Kate is kind of a terrible liar, and she’s going to get eaten alive.

“Marge!” Jack shakes her hand before pulling mum into a hug, before squeezing mom into one as well. He turns to Sharon, smile on his face but when he sees Kate—and why is she inching behind Sharon, anyway?—he glares.

“ _You_ ,” Jack says.

“ _Futz_ ,” Kate ducks behind Sharon.

“Sousa, let me borrow your cane, this is that girl that keeps squatting on our—“

“Jack!” Dandy, grabs him by the elbow. “That’s Kate, Sharon’s—“

“That’s _Hawkeye_ and she—“

“For the last time, I’m not trying to steal your stuff!”

“You stole our little girl’s heart,” Angie interjects serenely.

“Oh my god, mom,” Sharon groans. “Really?”

“I’m watching you, Hawkeye,” Jack says, and Sharon regrets teaching him the _I’ve got my eyes on you_ gesture. “I’ll be counting the silver and the dogs when you leave.”

Sharon can feel Kate puff up before deflating. “Okay, that’s actually—I may actually try to steal a dog, that’s fair.”

 _This is what Thanksgiving is about_ , Sharon reminds herself as she drags Kate with her to Jack. _It’s about wanting to kill your family._

And, you know. Fake it til you make it with dating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had to reread the last chapter a bit to remember what Sharon calls Angie which is when I realized that Angie is dad-joke mom and I'm so done.

**Author's Note:**

> Sharon Carter has two moms and two dads, you wanna go?  
> And yes, Peggy did go out to California partly to get Jack and Daniel to admit their feelings for each other. This is my canon.


End file.
